


𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢.

by shyestbanshee



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Days, Bartender Octavia Blake, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Kissing in the Rain, Not Beta Read, Opposites Attract, Romance, Umbrellas, implied/referenced slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24424237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyestbanshee/pseuds/shyestbanshee
Summary: "[...] And that's when she sees him, across the street: a bright colored spot in the middle of the depressing gray of the asphalt furrowed by puddles and streams of dirty water. [...]"
Relationships: Jactavia, Octavia Blake/Jasper Jordan
Kudos: 9





	𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is me trying to translate my Jactavia Drabbles & One-Shots in English, which is not my first language. So, please don’t be too harsh on me and feel free to tell me if you find any grammatical error.  
> Thank you for your patience and enjoy this mess!

Some days can be summed up simply with one word: mess.

They start badly, continue worse and end in disaster.

To recap?

Broken alarm clock. Consequent delay in school. Bad classwork for not studying the day before. Car tire punctured. Further delay and walk to work. The boss' lecture who is already nervous about his business. Overflowing room. A dozen glasses smashed because of a drunk guy. Bathroom floor cleaned twice because... Ok, Octavia prefers not to think about that ever again.

And in the end, as if that was not enough, to top it all off in a kind of great meteoric-cosmic ass grab, it starts to pour.

Untying her apron from her hips, Octavia looks over the windows of the restaurant and chews herself from cussing: it's raining hard, and let alone if she has carried something like an umbrella with her — definitely the least of her thoughts.

After lifting the collar of her jacket and pulling up the hood of her sweatshirt, covering herself as much as possible, the girl comes out at a brisk pace, now resigned to taking an unpleasant cold shower once she arrives home.

And that's when she sees him, across the street: a bright colored spot in the middle of the depressing gray of the asphalt furrowed by puddles and streams of dirty water.

He walks under an umbrella of a blinding red — really difficult to miss — yet absurdly, this is not what makes him visible and bright.

It is his radiant face as he goes towards her, the aura of happiness and warmth that envelops him.

 _Jasper shines on his own_ , Octavia thinks, wondering why she is realizing it so clearly only in that moment.

And meanwhile she remains impaled where she is, the icy drops that soak her clothes and she doesn't give a damn.

"Octavia!"

"Jasper..."

Jasper joins her, making room for her under that embarrassing umbrella, while Octavia is suddenly speechless, as often happens in his presence.

Yet she would like to tell him a lot.

How grateful she is, for everything, and to thank him, for having the power to sweep away the fatigue and the blackness of that bad day with a smile. To be the sun in the rain.

To be there, simply.

"I saved you from the universal flood" Jasper chuckles. "I knew you wouldn't have—"

But he cannot finish his sentence, because Octavia embraces him and pulls him towards her, grabbing him by the collar of the jacket and kissing him on the lips so suddenly and with such a rush that he drops the umbrella from his hands.

Without complaining about the fact that _ohmygod_ they will both get a cold with all that rain and humidity, Jasper intertwines his fingers behind Octavia's neck, returning the kiss with sweetness, just as heedless of the rain. 

The umbrella lies abandoned at their feet, innocently forgotten by both.


End file.
